To Give is to Force
by atoxicrose
Summary: Paxton grows tired of being ignored.


**Title:** To Give is to Force

**Fandom(s): **F.3.A.R.

**Character(s): **Paxton Fettel, the Point Man

**Pairing(s): **Paxton Fettel/the Point Man

**Length:** One-shot

**Word Count: **1,285

**Rating: **M (for Mature)

**Content:** Incest, gore, language, non-consensual sexual contact, sexual contact, violence

**Summary:** Paxton grows tired of being ignored.

**Credits:** Original idea belongs to anime0milk on Tumblr.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**Warning:** This fic contains adult themes and themes that may be disturbing to some readers. You have been warned.

**Author's Note:** The idea for this comes from anime0milk's (on Tumblr) headcannon(?)/comic of Pointy/Paxy slash. And for whatever reason months after first seeing the post, this little ficlet came to me.

The whole thing sounded a lot better in my head. As always.

I had a huge "What the fuck am I doing?!" moment about three quarters of the way through and had to sit there and remind myself that I have seen a cock before. I have given a hand job before. I should not be so embarrassed to write about it.

* * *

Paxton was rapidly losing patience with his older brother's childish behavior. Sure, he wasn't exactly _thrilled_ that he was bound to the man, dependent on him for his very existence (if that was what you could call his current state) but at least he was trying to be nice. While Paxton had never expected the Point Man to be friendly toward him, he did at least expect some gratitude. After all, he would still be in that godforsaken prison if it weren't for him. (Though he admitted he'd done it more out of necessity than actual brotherly concern.) But his brother was ignoring him like a child. He even was going as far as insisting upon clearing every room in every house they cut through despite Paxton's assurance the houses were empty. Empty except for the corpses, of course.

Paxton could vaguely feel the Point Man's satisfaction at his irritation. They were both connected psychically and had a vague sense of the other, both physically and emotionally, something that irritated Paxton even more. Or was that the Point Man's irritation with him? After so many hours it was getting hard to tell.

Distracted with his annoyance, Paxton didn't quite register the growing tightness at his groin until they were nearly halfway down the block. Absently, he reached down to adjust crotch of his pants to try relieve some of the discomfort, but it did nothing. After several moments of confusion he realized it wasn't him, it was his brother who had the hard on. What the hell?

Ahead of him, he noted the Point Man trying to covertly do the same thing Paxton had been a few moments before. Paxton smirked. Oh, he would have fun with this.

"Well, Brother, I didn't realize fighting got you so… worked up."

No response. Not even a backward glance.

"Well, at least there's plenty of… willing partners around for you," he continued indicating the corpses scattered about. "Providing you can find one intact enough to use."

Nothing. But the tension in the Point Man's shoulders told Paxton that he'd heard him.

"Or maybe it's the thought of seeing that woman again that has you so excited."

Silence, save for the sound of small arms fire in the distance.

Paxton tried several more digs, each one nastier than the next, with no response. Now his irritation had come back, and was sliding toward outright anger. He hated being ignored. Paxton fell into a brooding silence, trying to think of something that would get a response.

The Point Man's stiffy was starting to make him uncomfortable. He found it hard to concentrate. He really wished his brother would do something about the damn thing; it was starting to get _weird_. A foreign memory flashed though his mind at the thought and he let out a humorless laugh.

"Yes, they told me that too, Brother. You actually listened to them? Have you ever tried to think for yourself, or have you always followed orders so blindly?"

More silence. The man was really wearing on Paxton's nerves.

A quarter of an hour went by with Paxton becoming more and more uncomfortable with the whole situation. Finally, he could take it no longer.

"Will you _do_ something about that boner of yours?!"

The Point Man glanced at him over his shoulder.

Paxton took that to be a "no." His upper lip curled in anger and his temper getting the best of him he flashed in front of the bastard, effectively blocking his brother's path and earning an ugly look.

"I'll do it myself if I have to."

The Point Man snorted in obvious disbelief and tried to push Paxton out of his way, but Paxton was having none of it. He'd had just about enough of his older brother's bullshit and had the feeling that the Point Man was winning their (mostly one-sided) argument. And he'd be damned if he lost an argument to a man who had not spoken once.

With a snarl Paxton grabbed the Point Man by the front of his shirt and slammed him into the wall. His gun clattered to the floor and his upper lip curled into a snarl as he tried to shove Paxton off, but his hands went right through him. Paxton smirked. That was one of the nice things about being dead. He only had to be corporeal when it suited him.

Paxton crushed his older brother against the wall, pinning his arms between them and preventing the Point Man from getting any leverage to push him off. He tried to knee Paxton in the crotch, but Paxton booted his leg to the side and maneuvered between his thighs so that his feet were spread wide. The Point Man was half straddling Paxton's thighs, and his hard on was crushed awkwardly between them. He could barely breathe what with the way he was being crushed against the wall. Paxton's face was so close to his that his face was mostly blurred, but the Point Man knew he had that self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Paxton leaned back enough that the Point Man was able to drag in a few gulps of air and free his hands for another attempt at pushing Fettel off him, but once again his hands slid right through him. Paxton caught his wrists and pinned them above the Point Man's head and for the first time it occurred to him that his little brother might actually be planning on carrying through with his earlier threat.

_What the fuck are you doing?!_

Paxton's smirk widened. It was about damn time. "What do you think? I asked you nicely but you insist on ignoring me. You're being ridiculous and it's disrupting my concentration."

_I don't give a damn about you and your fucking concentration. Let me go!_

Paxton said nothing; instead he slid his hand between them and began working the front of the Point Man's pants open with only one hand. The angle was awkward and he fumbled with the zipper. The Point Man's (rather half-hearted, Paxton thought) struggles did little to slow him down. Paxton had to keep from rolling his eyes. Ungrateful bastard. He was doing the man a favour.

The Point Man couldn't suppress a sigh of relief when his cock was freed from the confines of his pants. Paxton wrapped his hand around the base of his brother's cock and squeezed. The Point Man grunted softly, then clenched his teeth and looked Paxton straight in the eye, lifting his chin defiantly as if daring himself to make another sound.

Paxton raised an eyebrow. So it was going to be like that, was it? It became a game, the Point Man trying to hold himself together as Paxton tried to make him come undone.

It was hard to say who won. It was true that the Point Man made no noise when he came, but he cracked the back of his head against the wall hard enough that he probably saw stars. Paxton decided they might just have to have a rematch later.

Paxton gave his older brother no warning, he simply stepped away and the Point Man, his only means of support gone, fell with a dull _thud_ to the floor. He had landed hard on his shoulder, and the butt of his gun was digging into his kidneys. He laid there for a moment, stunned.

"If you're finished, I'd like to get going," Paxton said, as if the whole thing had been the Point Man's idea.

Grinding his teeth in anger, the Point Man picked himself up off the floor, rearranged his cloths, picked up his rifle and moved out, all under Paxton's infuriatingly smug gaze.


End file.
